


The Other Man

by Spadesinspades



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Post Reichenbach, Threesome - M/M/M, johnlockstrade - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-19
Updated: 2013-05-19
Packaged: 2017-12-12 08:24:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/809426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spadesinspades/pseuds/Spadesinspades
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A birthday ficlet for M (homosociallyyours) based on an illustration by Ms Aether. </p><p>John & Greg are on the precipice of disaster when Greg confesses to there being another man involved in their romantic equation.  But how will John react when he learns the identity of this interloper?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Other Man

**Author's Note:**

  * For [homosociallyyours](https://archiveofourown.org/users/homosociallyyours/gifts).



\- I -

The room is buzzing from the static of emotional electricity.  Greg is standing in the kitchen in a defensive stance - knees bent, hands open at his waist - as if he anticipates an attack.  John is by the window where Sherlock used to play and he is breathing heavily, jaw clenched tight.

Everything inside him wants to bellow, to shout abuse and obscenities until his voice is as raw as his heart.  But he convinces himself that he is in better control than that.  He swallows the lump of rage in his throat and exhales slowly through his nose.

"What do you mean 'there's someone else'?"

Greg adjusts his posture, moving over to the kitchen table and leaning on it heavily.  He sighs, the escaping air causing his chest to deflate.  John notices that the muscles in his neck seem tense and strained.

"I know what this sounds like," Greg begins.  He lifts his gaze to make eye contact with John.  "But I need you to hear me out."

"It sounds like you've been cheating on me," comes John's venomous retort.  "Are you telling me that's not the case?"

"No.  Yes.  I-" Greg stumbles.  "Look, I'm trying to say that it started before this- before us.  There is someone else, but technically, it's you.  You're the other man."

John bristles, confused.  "You were already in a relationship?" he asks.  "And you never felt the need to mention that?"

Greg takes several steps from the kitchen into the sitting room, closer to where John is standing.

"I felt the need to mention it almost every day, but-" he stops, reconsiders.  "But it's not that simple a thing to just bring up and the decision wasn't solely my own."

"I don't know what you expect me to say, Greg."  John crosses his arms over his chest and tries to hold back the tears that are stinging at the corners of his eyes.  "You  _cheated_  on me."

"Well, not exactly."

"And I was going to ask you to move in, and-" John pauses, turns.  "What do you mean ' _not exactly_ '?"

"Well, it's not exactly as if we were exclusive - we've never even discussed it.  And, I mean, when we started seeing each other you admitted things about Sher-"

"Stop!" John snaps unexpectedly.  "Don't you say his name.  Don't you dare bring him into this.  It is  _not_  the same.  We were never physical and I never disclosed to him how I felt."

"John, please," Greg pleads, hands outstretched.  "That's what I've been trying to say.  He's a bloody detective - you didn't have to tell him."

Movement from the back of the kitchen distracts John from responding.  The door to the empty bedroom is pushed open and Sherlock steps out, incredibly and impossibly alive.

"I always knew it," he says.

John falls to his knees, hands over his mouth.

\- II -

It's dark in the room but it's the kind of inky blackness that allows for soft details and vague shapes to be visible.  John's eyes have adjusted to the low light, but his exhaustion from the events earlier in the day have made his eyelids heavy.  He is looking at everything through a gentle squint, pleasantly fatigued.

His hands are holding Sherlock's face as they kiss and he is nearly destroyed by the sensation of warm skin beneath his fingertips.  The last time they touched, Sherlock's skin was cold and pulse-less; a memory that John has tried tirelessly to obliterate.  He focuses instead on the way their lips meet and the sound of Sherlock's breathing.

John's blood is pounding in his ears, a constant beat of " _he's alive, alive, alive._ "  He doesn't bother holding back the tears this time.  They stream unbidden down his face and John can taste the salt in each kiss.

Behind him, strong and familiar hands wrap around his midsection.  Greg presses kisses along the plane of John's shoulder where it is stained with ink.  It's a reminder that he is there with them, but happy to be on the peripheral.  At least for now.

Sherlock's kisses are hungry and insistent; he is fond of biting at John's lower lip and holding it between his teeth.  Quietly, he breathes his name, " _John"_ , and it seems to dissipate on the exhalations that follow.  John is convinced that he has never heard anything so beautiful as the way his name sounds in the tone of Sherlock's voice.

Sherlock runs his hands down John's side and bumps into Greg's arm.  He pulls back from John slightly to smile at the other man, an expression on his face that is softer than any other John has ever seen on him before.  He presses a kiss into Sherlock's jaw and mumbles against his throat.

"I want you to watch him taste me."

#

There is not enough oxygen in the room, yet John takes greedy gulps of it without a care for the other two men who are breathing with him.  He is having difficulty processing the array of sensations moving through his body.  He is laying on his side and Sherlock is deep inside him, moving with a languid rhythm.  John leans slightly against him, back pressed to his chest, and has one arm wrapped around behind his neck.  

John looks down for a moment to watch Greg - laying on his stomach in front of him - with his lips wrapped around his cock.  John focuses on the feeling of Greg's fingertips digging into his thigh and tries to hold on.  He fears that when it is over, he will wake from this impossible dream.

Greg moans and the vibrations travel the length of John's cock.  His body tenses in pleasure and Sherlock pushes deeper in response.  He grips John at his hip bone and fucks him harder, faster.  Greg grins and slides his mouth off, switching over to pumping John's cock with his hand in time with Sherlock thrusts.  John is moving inevitable closer and more rapidly towards orgasm and there is nothing he can do to slow it.  He is in ecstasy.  He bites his lip,  _hard_ , and comes like a wave crashing into shore.

All at once he spills over Greg's hand and then recedes into Sherlock's warm, sweat slicked arms.  He closes his eyes and tries to catch his breath while the aftershocks of pleasure travel the length of his body. He feels tingly and content, exhausted and relieved.  Emotions wash over him, in and out like the tide, and he shakes gently from the fatigue.  He has never felt so many things once.  After several long moments with just the sounds of their breathing to fill the room, Sherlock speaks.

"Okay, soldier.  On your knees..."

\- III - 

John re-enters the bedroom and sits back down on the edge of the bed, careful to keep his mug steady.  Greg is scanning the newspaper and Sherlock has his laptop perched on his knees while he busily types away at the keyboard.  When John settles back in, he catches Sherlock watching him from the corner of his eye.

"What?" John asks, with a playful tip of his chin.  "Something you want to say?"

Sherlock smirks and redirects his attention back to the computer.  "Just admiring your ink, is all.  I don't think I've ever seen it all uncovered before."

Greg laughs and interjects.  "What he means is that he was admiring your arse in those pants.  Don't believe his lies."

John snorts a laugh and takes a sip of his tea, blowing on it when he discovers it's still a bit too hot for his liking.  "Well if we're discussing wardrobe choices, I'll have to admit that sweater looks far better on you than it ever did on me."

Sherlock nods and adds:  "Agreed.  I approve."

Greg leans over and rests his head on Sherlock's shoulder, smiling.  John peers over at what he is reading.  The headline 'SUSPICIOUS MURDER SUICIDE IN SUSSEX' is followed by a half-page feature with a photo of small country inn.

"Any chance you boys fancy a bit of a holiday? "  John asks.  "I hear Sussex is nice this time of year."

Sherlock beams and looks down at Greg.

"On one condition," he responds.  "We're getting a room with a King size bed."


End file.
